Of Theives and Liars
by Xenra
Summary: In which Gamzee is the thief and Tavros the liar...sort of. (On Hiatus. )
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Ehemm. Well hello I'm rather new to Homestuck so I figured I'd introduce myself. I'm Xen and this will be my first story for the fandom! If you happen to know me by chance please don't kill me I swear I /am/ working on my other fics! *cringes* Anyways, this is kind of a prototype of a story I want to write so please leave me comments to let me know how I did!

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The young man read the message on his screen and then re-read it just to make sure he had seen it right the first time. He had. Another five minutes spent just staring at his laptop, odd yellowish brown eyes wide, before strong fingers moved deftly over the keys.

AT: uH,, aRE YOU SURE,,,,

An almost instant reply popped up onto the messenger, text a dark blue.

AG: What do you mean, of course I'm fucking sure! It'll 8e a 8last, you'll see.

AT: o-Okay,,,,

AG: Quit fucking stuttering and open that 8ag I gave you a few days ago. Put on what's inside and do it fast! I'll 8e 8y to pick you up in five minutes.

AT: uM,, aLRIGHT

Tavros eyed said bag nervously where it leaned against the wall with his backpack. It had been shoved into his hands a few days prior by an excited Vriska with the strict instructions not to open it until given the signal. He'd been rather apprehensive about it since then, and now it seemed his fears had been well placed. Very well placed indeed as his girlfriend had done nothing short of order him to escort her to some Halloween party...

Now, Tavros wasn't exactly a social person...he tended to stutter and blush and just generally make a fool of himself when placed in public situations. Especially when around people he didn't know very well, which was, well, pretty much everywhere. And of course, Vriska knew this already. Still, she insisted on trying to 'make him a better person' as she put it, and dragged him into all kinds of uncomfortable situations as often as she possibly could. It was tedious and did nothing to help his anxiety, but he allowed it anyways, wary of her so called good intentions but trusting enough to let his paranoia go. After all, they'd been dating for several years now. She couldn't still have that same animosity towards him as when they first met, right? Of course not! She'd even said herself that it had been an attempt to hide the way she really felt towards him. Why anyone would ever feel that way about him, he'd never know, but he went along with it.

With a sigh, the eighteen year old wheeled his way over to the rather dreadful looking bag, though he knew it was only his mind making it look suddenly so insidious. It was just a plastic grocery bag, jeez...He picked it up anyways, pulling it into his lap. Vriska had said to be ready in five minutes, of which two had already been taken up simply sitting and staring nervously. He'd have to hurry to make sure he didn't leave her waiting. Being in a wheelchair didn't necessarily bother him all that much, but it did mean even mundane tasks required extra time and effort.

The accident had only happened a few years ago, too quick for him to remember much, too horrible for him to forget. It had left his legs twisted and mangled, useless and broken. The doctors had amputated both of them, directly above his knee on both sides, leaving him only rounded stubs and little chance for prosthetics. The above-knee ones required much more complicated technology, and as such were much more expensive. He didn't have a hope in the world. But, like he'd said, it was okay. He'd gotten used to the handicappedness.

A twitch of his mouth and then Tavros delved into the bag, almost scared to find out what was within. But...well, when it came to Vriska he never did have much of a choice. His hand emerged again, green fabric clasped between his fingers. It reveled itself to be a shirt, edges ragged and neck pulled down into a sloping V. A feathered hat followed it, the same dull green as the shirt and the teen's breath caught in his throat a little.

Aw yes. As hell fucking yes. Vriska had gotten him a Peter Pan costume. It didn't fix the fact that he would surely embarrass the hell out of himself tonight in front of at least a handful of people, but it did make him feel a little better. (See, she did care about him, providing him something he was comfortable with when going into an uncomfortable place) Peter Pan was like his fucking hero, silly and childish as it may be, and the costume made him immensely happy.

Miraculously, Tavros manage to dress himself before the sound of someone pounding on his front door echoed through his small apartment. It had involved much wriggling of hips and some avid concentration, but he'd managed as he always did. The pants were, of course, the only truly challenging part.

When he opened the door, Tavros was met with a face full of glitter dust that left him choking and gagging. Vriska, meanwhile, laughed her silly little head off, bent over at the waist and hands resting against her knees. Finding air eventually, Tavors laughed along with her, though it wasn't quite as boisterous. It was...funny he guessed?

A minute later and they'd died down, him to a nervous kind of giggle and her to short, bubbly outbursts. He used the opportunity to look her up and down, taking in her costume. A white dress hung nicely from her shoulders, low cut, and curved down nicely around her hips. It ended mid-thigh, revealing smooth, dark legs beneath. Behind her, two blue fairy wings arched up and away from her back, slightly opaque and looking like they'd gotten their own dose of glitter dust

Her hair, a dark ebony, lay in wavy ribbons around her face, down her shoulders, and across her chest. All of her makeup was done in a dark blue, matching the exact hue of her wings, including her lipstick. However, considering her makeup was always blue, this wasn't much of a surprise. Silver rimmed glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, bright blue eyes behind them, lined with guess what color, blue mascara and eyeliner. Tavros had to say she looked pretty damn good, plenty of rich olive skin revealed as usual, even if she wasn't an official character from the Peter Pan books or movies. (Obviously this was more important to him than the fact that she was hot as hell...sort of)

"Ready, fairy boy?" Her voice was smooth, if not a little over dramatic in her annunciation. The question soaked up more of the already limited good mood her boyfriend had left, leaving him feeling rather twitchy.

"Uh, don't you think it's um, t-too early for a Halloween p-party? Halloween isn't, uh, u-until next week," was his stammered response. His stuttering was always worse around her for some odd reason.

Vriska smacked him once upside the head with a loud "Nonsense!" before moving behind his wheelchair and pushing him away from the comfort of his home. Thankfully, his apartment was on the first floor of the complex and after locking his front door, it only took maneuvering through a few short hallways to get outside to Vriska'a waiting car.

She had a nasty habit (in his opinion) of attempting to make Tavros do everything for himself (to make him stronger, she said) but today she seemed to be feeling nice, or perhaps simply impatient, and helped him into her navy mustang, even folding his wheelchair and storing it in the backseat herself. Not that he hated doing things for himself, but she had a tendency to place some rather heavy expectations on his shoulders. Like somehow being able to climb the stairs in her house to her bedroom. He still hadn't been able to accomplish that one...

Before he could say anything about her behavior, she'd slipped into the driver's seat and they were off. Tavros was most certainly never a fan of her driving; the way she swerved in and out of traffic, speedometer ever climbing dangerously higher, and windows down so she could cuss people out as they passed by. Most of it was lost to the wind, but a well placed finger got the message across just fine. He didn't bother her while she was driving. It just seemed too risky.

The young man clutched his hat in one hand, and the appropriately named 'oh shit' handle of the car in his other. His coppery brown mohawk was being heavily tousled (more like body slammed) by air rushing into the car, the sting of it pulling a blush forward on his tan skin. Luckily, wherever they were headed wasn't but a few miles away, just on the outskirts of town. Tavros heard it long before he saw it, moving bodies, screaming voices, and of course, heavily beated music turned up to an insane level. By the time they pulled up to a rickety looking two story house, pool in the back and cars parked all over the front, he wasn't even sure what song was playing anymore. It was just noise, and yet most of the people he saw were dancing to it to their hearts content.

Vriska killed the engine, and she was moving around the car to open the passenger door when Tavros noticed for the first time the vibrant cherry red bra and thong combo she was wearing under her dress. He licked his lips lightly, attempting to avert his eyes but finding it a rather difficult task. Throughout all of their relationship, they'd never really progressed past a few chaste kisses and he duly wondered if this wasn't some kind of invitation to move things along. It was rather sudden if it was meant to be a signal though...I mean, Jesus they'd never even made out. Not that he hadn't thought of it on occasion, and he certainly wasn't some kind of prude, but honestly she'd never showed that much interest in him physically. He couldn't blame her, what with the accident his entire lower half was covered in scar tissue, sinewy and unattractive. She'd seen him once, on accident, and nothing had progressed since then. So that left the question; was the display for him? Probably not, but considering she dressed only slightly more modestly under normal circumstances he figured it was just her style and not really meant for anyone in particular. Some girls had a thing for pink or skirts or whatever...his had a taste for, um, sluttiness? No that was a bad way to put it. But what other word could describe it? A-love-for-showing-skin-and-giving-all-of-the-men- who-see-her-perpetual-hardons? Yeah, something like that.

Swallowing a lump in his throat, both from that thought and the fact that hell, she'd opened his door and was expecting him to get out and go join the party but didn't she usually ditch...oh yup, there she went. Vriska had stayed long enough to pull his wheelchair from the back seat, set it up and blow him a little kiss with a wink before she'd sashayed away, moving towards the house.

Tavros stared after her until she'd vanished from his view, half his mind observing the thong she wore (good god, her ass was nice) and the other half attempting to keep him from having some kind of panic attack. For several minutes he simply considered staying in the car all night before he sighed and awkwardly maneuvered himself into his chair. He'd never hear the end of it from Vriska if he stayed in there...so with a small swallow he closed the car door and set off for the great unknown of social disasters.

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Please review! ^^

~Xen


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So this chapter is a bit short...I hope that's okay. It's meant to be kind of short and dramatic. Not sure if I pulled that off or not, but I guess we'll see!

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Well...he guessed this wasn't so bad...

It had taken Tavros several minutes to navigate his way up to the actual house, forced to weave between absurdly parked cars in a device that wasn't exactly fond of grass, but well the little paved path was not accessible so it was the only way to go.

When he was finally craning his neck to look up at the house, the music was so loud in his ears that he thought his ear drums might actually break. The front door was open, and inside where he thought he might find packed bodies, red solo cups full of god knows what, and lots of grinding and dancing and laughing there were very few actual people. Carefully, he moved through the doorway into what appeared to be a living room, only to find no one present. Except for the few people he'd seen outside, this place was deserted...

The next room he tried was the kitchen and it was equally deserted, bottles and food and all manner of things spread out across shitty, fake marble counters. Behind what he assumed was the back door, Tavros caught sight of movement. He headed towards it, not unlike a bug to a zapper he thought, and his palms were slick. Upon opening the door he suddenly found exactly where everyone was, all gathered in this ginormous backyard, people in the pool, in the trees, on the grass, standing and dancing and laying down, the music quieter here because of all the space it had to bleed through but still loud enough to give anyone a dull, thumping headache. Beside him, pressed against the side of the house, there were two bodies, one male pale blonde, the other dark haired, making out heatedly. He studiously ignored them.

There was a flash of cherry red in the corner of the young man's eye and he turned just in time to watch Vriska dive gracefully into the pool, dress and wings forgotten. Huh...so not a thong and bra. A swimsuit. At least...he hoped it was because his eyes certainly weren't the only ones on her as she back stroked across the water, legs lazy under the water and back arched, pressing her chest into the air. There were others in there too, and even as Tavros watched some girl wrapped thin arms around his girlfriend and murmured something directly into her ear, pulling her towards a small group of similarly clad (aka, hardly clad at all) teens.

Chewing his bottom lip rather nervously (it was a habit, leaving his lips constantly chapped) he wheeled a few feet towards the pool. Not that he was too worried about Vriska, this was usual behavior for her, but because if she looked up now and saw him, sitting here awkwardly and not talking to anyone, she'd tease him for it endlessly. He was just thinking about maybe possibly somewhat being able to strike up a conversation with a drunken stranger when a heavy hand suddenly fell on his shoulder. Tavros let out a very manly sounding squeak and there came a heavy laugh from behind him.

"You must be Taurus," came a smooth voice, pompous and haughty.

The teen swallowed and craned his head around to try and see whoever it was, but he only caught a glimpse of hard eyes and dark hair.

"Uh, yeah, that's u-um, me. But it's actually, uh, T-Tavros."

"Wwhatevver." The hand slid from his shoulder and the owner of the voice slipped into Tavros' vision, fluid movements and lean body. He was tall, very tall, with sharp features and a gaze that was as cold as flint. A mauve scarf wrapped around his neck, the same color as the streak in his hair, stylish and modern. He was dressed in some kind of uniform.

"The name's Eridan." Was he looking at his nails like a girl? He was. And look at that his other hand was on his hip. "This is my party."

"Oh! W-well it's um, very nice." At least he'd managed to find someone to talk to. Maybe now Vriska would leave him in peace for a while...he doubted it, but a man could hope, right?

Pale eyes flashed suddenly and there was an audible hiss, making Tavros freeze up.

"Are you makin' fun of my accent, cripple?" The words were harsh and far too close for the teen's liking. When had Eridan leaned down over him? He wasn't sure, but there was that sharp face, pale skin, features hard and angry and oh shit what was going on?

"I-I-I-I w-wasn't I sw-swear!"

Just like that Eridan pulled back with a disdainful sniff, face narrowed in a kind of disgust that made Tavros' stomach twist. He hated people like this. Absolutely hated them. But his sudden bubbling anger was as useless as the rest of him and so he just bowed his head.

"Anywways," he continued, picking up before his little outburst. "Like I said this is my party. I rent this house out to a couple of druggies most of the time, but my house is gettin' renovvations right noww so I figured it wwould servve."

A little confused by Eridan's flippant behavior, Tavros just mutely nodded his head.

"I throww these at least once a month. Only the hottest people are invvited."

Wait, what?

"And frankly, Taurus, I don't remember invvitin' you."

Umm...

"Sorry kid."

Before Tavros even had time to let that sink in their were hands on his wheelchair, pushing, pushing, and somewhere the music was still beating but everyone was going silent were turning to face the duo. Yellow-brown eyes widened when he realized what was happening and oh no, oh god no, this couldn't be happening and he was trying to put the breaks on his chair but Eridan had pulled out a knife and shit he could feel it against his skin and where was Vriska, where was she? He scanned the gathering crowd desperately but saw hide nor hair and his breath grew quick and panicky why weren't they doing anything? They just stood there, staring, staring, and smiling and laughing and why weren't they doing anything!?

Tavros didn't realize they'd stopped until Eridan's voice was right above him, loud and clear and silencing everyone around them.

"Wwhat do you say wwe teach this cripple a lesson? Teach him not to showw up wwhere he's not wwanted." There came a small roar from the crowd and Eridan laughed nastily, leaning in close to Tavros' ear.

"Of course, you're not wwanted anywwhere so just die, okay?" Too quiet for anyone else to hear, but then Eridan had pushed and that's all that was needed and Tavros was falling, falling into the pool, water closing in over his head as he tried to withhold a scream. Bubbles of oxygen escaped him as he sank, the weight of his chair pulling him down, down, all the way to the bottom and he couldn't help opening his eyes, blurry and dark as it was but if he looked up he could see shadows and shapes, people, just above the surface, and he could hear their muffled shouts.

Desperation was in his movements as he pushed away from his chair, now an awful death trap and used his arms to try and propel himself through the water. With the deadweight of his lower half it was difficult, but the air in his lungs made him buoyant and he swam for the surface, awkward and graceless. He shoved his face up first, mouth opening almost instantly as he tried to gasp in a breath, but suddenly there were hands on him and he was gasping in water instead of air and they were pushing him back down, down, his arms flailing, the strength in them doing nothing to save him as his body convulsed, desperately trying to rid him of the water in his airways but unable to do so, his panic making him twitch, making him ineffective and unable to think and oh god oh god he was going to die die die die die

Where was Vriska?

His back arched, mouth open as his chest quivered, still trying to pull air in but he stilled, adrenaline in his veins but exhaustion and lack of oxygen making his limbs still. For a brief second, thou it was cloudy and foggy and black around the edges his mind was calm and he allowed himself to sink away from the surface of the water, away from those hands and face and shouts and screams. His eyes were just fluttering closed when movement caught his attention. The shadows were moving, moving away from his vision leaving only light in their place. They were leaving? No. One came back. It was large, unruly, smudged around the edges as if someone had licked their thumb and run it over the image. It reached out one hand to Tavros and dear lord...where those horns?

He was going to hell, wasn't he?

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I understand cliffhangers aren't nice so if you ask nicely I'll finish the next chapter quickly!

~Xen


	3. Chapter 3

There were voices. That much he could tell.

Voices.

And darkness.

.

.

.

.

What?

Okay, quickly, go over the facts. What's your name?

Something...something with a T. T. T. Ta. Tavros. Yeah, yeah thats right.

Where are you?

I...I uh, don't know.

Where were you last?

My apartment...no...no Vriska took me somewhere.

Where?

A...a party...I think, I'm um, not sure.

Are you still there?

I...I think so.

Can you feel anything?

...no

Can you see anything?

No, no I can't um, see anything either...or...wait...I can...I can hear something.

What is it?

Voices.

Whose?

I'm...I'm not sure.

Listen.

Okay.

And listen he did.

There were two. Two voices. One was higher pitched, of that he was sure, a kind of trill that vaguely pierced through the fuddled mess that was his brain. Not nearly enough to make out words, but the shrill sound was definitely more audible than the other voice.

The other voice was...was...god, what was that? It was like a rumble, a low low rumble, the kind you hear when a thunder storm is distant on the horizon but closing in fast. But it was also...also deep, yeah, very deep. Well...no, the underlying tone was deep. There was another level, a higher one. That one wasn't quite so low.

Alright, so...two voices.

If he focused a little he could also pick up on a faint sound in the background. A white noise, crackling like the static on his tv when the cable went out (a common occurrence in his apartment). It held no meaning and was distant, unimportant.

The voices were much more prominent, easily stealing his attention away from the fuzzy background noises. If he had to guess, Tavros would have said they were right above him, close enough to touch. That is...if he could feel anything. Maybe he could see them, identify them if he opened his eyes? No, that wasn't going to happen either. He'd have to bring awareness back to his body first...

Was he dead?

The question was startling and Tavros was suddenly unsure of himself. Was this the afterlife? Is that why he couldn't feel anything, why there was nothing but darkness all around?

Well, fuck.

Now what? What where you supposed to do when you were dead? Were you even supposed to do anything? Somehow he doubted it. Maybe this was limbo and he was just waiting to pass through to hell or whatever. If those horns he'd seen earlier were any indication surely that's where he was going...

Wait.

That memory. Suddenly the darkness around him began to twist into life, like the flickering light of a movie screen as the image pulled itself forth from his mind. It was in sharp detail, right there behind his eyelids, that dark figure with the smudged shape and the long fingers that reached out towards him, so close that he could just barely feel them brushing against his cheek, soft and ridiculously cold (why were they so cold?) and just like that...

Feeling slammed back into Tavros' body so fast he was left gasping, an unbearable ache in his chest and a pounding in his previously numb mind. He couldn't get air into his lungs no matter how hard he tried, spluttering, convulsing, and vaguely he wondered if he was still on the bottom of the pool until there was a cooing above him and he was being tipped onto his side, a hand on his back as he coughed up so much water it should have been worrisome, but really he was doing all he could not to black out right then and there so the fact was lost on him.

There was noise around him, that fog in his head dissipating and leaving him reeling rather sickly. The previous white noise was now loud, raucous talking and laughter. The shrill voice was even higher, and the low grumble was distinctly at his side, the owner of the cool hand previously on his back (now on his shoulder) and the matching one against his stomach, keeping him steady as his body purged itself of the unwelcome intruder in his airways.

The low grumble said something, soft and wavering but the hands retreated, leaving Tavros weak. There was an ensuing squabble, as far as he could tell, between shrill and low before grumble seemed to retreat and he Tavros was alone with whoever was left. The identity became clear when he felt familiar manicured nails against his face and he winced away from the heat of Vriska's skin, finding it uncomfortable. He should have been cold, being pushed into a pool in late October (honestly how had they been swimming in that?) but instead he was hot, far too hot for his liking and he shifted onto his back, feeling cool concrete beneath him as his ragged breath slowly started to even out.

"Baby, are you alright?" Fire spread across his face as, again, fingertips traced across his skin, pushing wet hair back and following the curve of his jaw.

Honey tinted eyes opened slowly, the world spinning into focus with too bright colors and too bright lights. Tavros squinted against it, dark hair and blue eyes hovering over him, plump lips pulled into a straight line of concern. They opened as Vriska spoke again, but the words were lost on him. The last thing he managed to do before passing out completely was rasp out a quiet, "Please take me home," that was probably far too quiet for her to hear anyways.

The next time Tavros awoke there was warm sunshine on the skin of his arms and pressed softly against his closed eyes. He was aware of a comforter haphazardly thrown over his body, one foot (or rather, stub) free from its embrace as if someone had hurriedly tried to tuck it in around him. There was a plushness behind his head that he recognized as pillows and when he breathed in through his nose he was greeted with the warm smell of his home, familiar and safe.

If he didn't know any better, the teen may have thought that his memories of last night were nothing but a silly dream. But his throat was raw and painful, and his limbs heavy and he knew, as much as he dreaded it, that the events were unfortunately true.

Aka- he'd almost drowned last night. Fuck.

Tavros let out a low groan, rolling over in his bed and blinking his eyes open lazily. Sure enough, there was his room spread out before him, his computer still on and whirring softly and his blinds on the far side of the room pulled up to let mid afternoon sun leak in through the rather dusty windows.

Apparently this small movement alerted Vriska (was she was just...sitting around his apartment?) and she leaned into the doorway, smiling brightly at him. "You're awake!" was her exclamation as she came in to sit on the edge of the bed. He pushed himself up onto one elbow to face her.

"I was soooooo worried. You looked like shit last night, you know! Your lips were damn near blue by the time I hauled your ass in here, and not in the good way!" Her own blue lips pulled into a smirk and Tavros had to wonder at that. He distinctly remembered being overly hot and uncomfortable before he'd passed out...Speaking of remembering though...

"Who, um, pulled me out of the w-water?" His voice was raspy and definitely betrayed just how tired he felt, but he didn't mind it much.

Bright blue eyes studied him for a moment as a pretty face twisted into what looked like confusion. "I did, of course. I was in the water when Eridan pushed you in. Swam over and pulled you out."

Tavros scrunched up his own face, knowing that his adrenaline altered memories were not to be completely trusted but..."I-I could have sworn I, uh, saw s-someone with horns," he mumbled. The image was certainly clear enough in his mind. Not to mention he distinctly remembered an empty pool beforehand when he'd been staring at it apprehensively.

Looking a little put out Vriska rolled her eyes dramatically. "I honestly have no ideaaaa what you're talking about, moron. I pulled you out of the pool and after you hacked up water all over the damn place, Eridan helped me carry you out to my car and then into bed."

Okay...what?

"E-Eridan helped you?" He honestly couldn't help the disbelief in his voice this time. Bullies didn't usually help their victims in any way shape or form.

His girlfriend's eyes narrowed in what he knew was a dangerous way and she snapped out a sudden, "You accusing me of lying, Toreadork?" Before he could even think of answering she'd scoffed, tossing inky black hair over one shoulder before continuing. "Anyways, your wheelchair is still in the pool. Eridan says the druggies who own the place might get it out at some point but until then you'll have suck it up and do without. Just do me a favor? If one of them comes over don't let them in. They're fucking psychos, you got it? Just let them leave your stupid chair outside in the hall or something. Who knows, maybe they'll forget like the stoners they are and you can learn to stop being such a baby."

Tavros was just opening his mouth to ask what he was supposed to use in leu of the chair but she cut him off once more, not even looking at him now as she prattled on in that high, rough voice of hers. "I won't be around for the next few weeks or so, I'm going on that trip with Meenah down to the beach. I'll check in on you every now and then but try not to need me too much, okay? I don't want your annoying voice in my ear 24/7 when I'm supposed to be relaxing."

With that she stood, bending down once to press a kiss to Tavros' lips before turning on her heel and leaving the room. There was the sound of her grabbing her things and then she was calling out a goodbye and the front door opened and shut.

Her boyfriend, meanwhile, pursed his lips and flopped back down into his mattress to try and understand everything Vriska had just prattled off to him. Honestly, he wasn't even fully awake yet and here she was talking ninety miles an hour before up and leaving for...what had she said...weeks? Ugh.

One deep breath through his nose later and Tavros had quickly come to the conclusion that the thing he needed (more like wanted, really) was sleep. He could sort out all the little bombshells his girlfriend had dropped on him later (something about Eridan helping him and being delusional?). He wasn't even awake long enough to hear the roar of Vriska's mustang or the sound of it pealing out of the parking lot on smoking wheels.

His dreams were strangely filled with dark strangers who pressed ice cold fingertips to his skin and made him want to curl up into their cool embrace. But then he'd look up and the figure was gone, leaving only dark prints on Tavros' body wherever he'd been touched, as if he'd been marked, claimed by the shadow. When he awoke again, sometime late at night, he searched sleepily for the fingerprints and was disappointed when he found none. But then he was asleep again and darkness closed upon the silken thought of hands upon his skin and devoured it whole, leaving him nothing to remember come morning.


	4. Chapter 4

I tired and therefore nobody can judge me.

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For the next several days, Tavros' life was a difficult one. He awoke the morning after Vriska had left to the sound of soft knocking on his front door. There was the shifting of weight and fabric brushing against skin and Tavros had felt his heart leap straight into his throat. He was still groggy and his fear suddenly prominent, not from his girlfriend's warning but because nobody ever visited him and there was a very strong sense of anxiety still clouding his mind. Later he'd figure it was left over from some dream he couldn't remember but at the time he'd held his breath and stayed completely still until whoever was at his front door had moved along without a word. Afterwards he'd sighed with relief and then proceeded to lay in bed and go over everything that had happened to him within the last forty eight hours. Not that he'd had much of a choice about not moving. No wheel chair...

A solution for that particular problem came while he was staring rather moodily at his bedroom wall. He was propped up in bed by this point, letting what was left of his legs dangle off the side and tapping them restlessly. He'd thrown off his clothes earlier once awareness had hit him and he'd realized he was still dressed in that Peter Pan costume, musty smelling now and itching against his skin uncomfortably. So yeah...naked...feeling gross...kind of hungry...really thirsty...it fucking sucked. To say he was glaring daggers at the rather innocent wall was an understatement. He was just considering going through the humiliation of trying to drag himself around when his gaze landed at his computer. On its table. Next to his bed. Where there used to be a rolling chair. Right there.

Just to left of the door to his bedroom was a closet. It wasn't terribly large, but it was the only one in the entire apartment so it stored most of his extra bedding and cleaning supplies. It was also where he'd stuck said rolling chair not long after his accident.

A few minutes and a bit of carpet burn later, Tavros had managed to fetch it, pushing it into a corner so he could clamber onto the chair without it rolling all over the place. Then he grabbed his broom, now turned paddle, and off he went.

Again, this wasn't an easy life. For days he stuttered around his apartment, movements awkward as he tried to maneuver his makeshift wheelchair through doorways and spaces not meant to accommodate the handicapped. This was his home, and though he'd grown used to the tight fit of it all, his newest impediment certainly didn't make things easier on him. Several times he fell, reaching too far or simply over balancing himself. Each time he pushed the chair upright and hauled his useless body back into it.

The knocks on his door were quickly becoming a fairly constant thing. Once in the morning, two or three times in the afternoon and then once more right after the sun had fallen. Tavros never even considered opening that door, just sitting quietly until it was gone and then going to see if they had maybe left his belongings on the front step. No such luck.

Things changed the third day. It was nearing early evening, and the teen had been curled up (or as curled as he could get himself) on his couch, book in hand, when the knocking came again. He didn't even look up. That was, until he heard a voice.

"Hey fuckass, we know you're in there so just open the goddamn door already!"

The voice was gravely and slightly unpleasant but only because of the volume at which it was used. Whoever that was needed to calm the hell down, geez.

Oh yeah, Tavros should probably calm down too. His head had snapped up fast enough to give him whiplash and large, doe eyes stared hard at his door. Who even was that out there? He'd certainly never met anyone with that voice, he would have remembered them.

More pounding. "Oh for fuck's sake! If you don't open this piece of shit door within the next three goddamn seconds I'll rip it off it's fucking hinges."

A small, strangled sound came from Tavros' throat, covering up a second voice that spoke to the first. The teen was too busy trying to scramble into his chair to notice in the first place. Shaky fingers had just grabbed the back of it when the front door rattled and holY SHIT HE DIDNT LOCK THE DOOR.

There was the sound of metal against plaster as handle met wall and in stalked a dark, unruly looking stranger. Well...two actually, but the second one didn't stalk exactly. Just kind of ambled.

"There you are!" the first one growled.

Tavros snapped his jaw shut and attempted to vault himself into the computer chair as the stranger moved closer, hands curled into tight fists. Unfortunately for Tavros, the traitorous chair skid sideways with his weight, throwing him unceremoniously to the floor, managing to strike the edge of the coffee table on his way down. He groaned, clutching at his shoulder and deciding it was time for plan B.

"P-please, just l-l-leave me alone! I sw-swear I-I-I didn't know! I didn't I didn't!"

The whole performance gave the shorter of the strangers pause, his dark eyes narrowing slightly and then rolling heavenward as he sighed.

"Jegus Christ dude, we're just here to drop off your wheelchair! What are you even doing freaking out like that, dumbass?"

"Hey, take it easy on him Karbro, little motherfucker's scared." The second stranger approached, hands stuffed in his jean pockets and shoulders set in a comfortable slouch. Tavros couldn't even see his face from this angle, he was too tall and the handicapped teen too occupied with pushing himself up, back to the couch, eyes still wide.

Karbro (what the fuck kind of name was that, really?) made a scoffing noise but backed off anyways, leaning away and crossing his arms over his chest. Now that Tavros was really looking, he didn't seem that intimidating actually. He was dressed in a huge, grey sweater that completely swamped his small frame and dark jeans. Compactly built, it looked like he could possibly be sporting a six pack under that monstrosity of fabric, but all covered up as he was he kind of just looked...adorable. Like a big, soft plush toy. If plush toys could make a sailor blush with their language and the devil himself back down from that glare.

The second stranger moved fluidly into the space Karbro had just exited, an easy, lazy smile splitting his lips rather widely. It would have been comforting if his features weren't covered in face paint. Like...a gallon of it. All sickly whites and dark grays, creating a haphazard semblance of a clown. Underneath said monstrosity, the stranger looked to be quite handsome with a wide face, slightly flattened nose and deep, deep eyes. Was that color purple or blue? Tavros couldn't tell from this distance.

"Take it motherfucking easy man, we ain't here to try and get your scare on or nothing. Just wanted to bring back your four wheeled device and shit," stranger number two drawled, his voice a mixture between deep trembling and something higher pitched, smooth as silk.

Four wheeled device?

"M-my wheelchair?" Tavros asked rather uncertainly, still plastered to the side of the couch and gaze flickering from one intruder to the next.

If at all possible, the taller one's smile grew, eyes at half mast and oddly captivating. "Sure thing, bro. Got it right out in the motherfucking hallway. Look like you could up and use that miracle too."

So where these the...drug addicts (that's what Eridan had called them, right?) that lived in the house where the party had been thrown? Well...he could believe that he supposed.

Tavros bit his bottom lip before stuttering out a short thank you.

"Don't fucking thank us, you jackass." That would be Karbro again. "Gamzee here has been coming over every damn day trying to give you that piece of shit back and you never open the fucking door. I actually had to haul my ass all the way out here, against my better wishes thank you, to help out my poor excuse for a best fucking friend complete a simple goddamn task that even a three year old could get done. So no, don't thank us. You owe me food, drink and full use of both your bathroom and your television for the next three hours."

Um?

"Aw shit Karkat, you can't just up and do that to a motherfucker."

What?

"The hell I can't!"

Hold on a s...

"Bro we got all that shit back at home. You already scared the little motherfucker, can't be getting all up in his business now."

Wait!

"I will only repeat myself once more Gamzee. To hell I can't! This fucking douche here owes me. If he'd just opened the goddamn door the past fifty times you knocked I wouldn't have had to be here in the first place! But look, here I am, like a fucking sap trying to appease my sorry fucking excuse for a friend."

"Stop!"

Two pairs of eyes turned to face Tavros, one pair an unreadable shade of royal purple, the other a smoldering burgundy brown.

Shit, was that out loud?

"I mean, um, c-could you not, uh, fight y-you know, in my, um, in my apartment..."

Oh fuck they were both still smiling at him he made them mad didn't he wasn't trying to he really wasn't he just wanted them out of his house and out of his space and oh god he could feel tears welling and they were so going to call him out if he started crying right now, even Vriska always did and he could feel them god oh god what was...

Gamzee broke into another warm smile, affectionate and odd. "Sure thing little dude. Me and Karkat here got shit to do anyways. We'll come hang with you tomorrow, okay?" With that he grabbed Karbro(kat?)'s wrist and began to pull the suddenly not mute teen after him. The shorter seemed to be arguing to the point of his face turning bright red, but Gamzee simply chuckled and shut Tavros' apartment door behind them.

And took his wheelchair with them.

What?

Fuck.


End file.
